“Are you alright?” Laila exclaimed, rushing to her side.
“Oh, I’m bloody fine,” Lady McGowan replied, sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment. “This little bastard’s ready tae come out though I tell ye.” Laila flickered a grin at the thick Scottish accent that came out of Lady McGowan whenever she let it. She had clearly worked very hard to tamper it down, but once in a while, she let it slip out like a waterfall. “D’ye have any children?”
“Oh no, Milady,” Laila said, turning her eyes down again.
“Well, ye best get on it soon,” the Lady said, resting her hands on the baby. “Else wise ye’ll end up like me, old and hobbling around with a ten-pound lump.”
“Surely you’re not that old Milady,” Laila said, trying to comfort her.
“Old enough for this tae be a pain,” Lady McGowan replied, smiling back at Laila. “First time was easy enough, but this bugger is a trial.”
“Where is your son?” Laila asked. “I have heard of him, but I have never seen him.”
“Edinburgh,” Lady McGowan said with a long sigh. “Learning tae be a man. Why he can’t do that here is another matter.”
“Why can’t he?” Laila asked.
“The King wants the young Lairds tae be loyal tae him,” Lady McGowan answered. “So, they grow up there.”
“That seems a shame,” Laila said softly.
“It’s just men, once more,” Lady McGowan said, shrugging. “Doing what they think is right.”
“That must be terribly difficult,” Laila replied.
“It gets easier,” Lady McGowan said calmly, her gaze turning toward the window and the highlands beyond. “With time.”
“Of course,” Laila said, unsure of what to do or say. She still clung to the recovered pile of mud-stained clothes.
“Come,” Lady McGowan said suddenly. “Let us go to market.”
“Market?” Laila asked, surprised.
“I’ve been stuck up in this tower for weeks, it feels,” Lady McGowan said, rising slowly from the bed. “Would ye take some air with me?”
“Of course, Milady,” Laila said, looking around for somewhere to set the clothes.
“Oh come,” Lady McGowan said, “throw those in the fire. They’re lost.” She walked up beside Laila, took the clothes, and tossed them unceremoniously into the hearth. “Now let’s be off.”
They went slowly down from the tower and made ready with cloaks against the light rain and wind. The market was only a few paces from the keep, on the other side of the yard from the orchards and the hog pens, a ways along the castle wall from the hall. There was a massive amount of activity in the yard as they exited the keep, and Laila saw peasants bustling back and forth with all sorts of parcels and supplies.
“This bloody feast,” Lady McGowan remarked as they walked ever so slowly toward the market. “It is the talk of the castle, as ye can see.”
“You do not like feasts?” Laila asked, walking half a pace behind her.
“Only when I can dance, lass,” Lady McGowan replied. “And tonight, I certainly won’t be dancing. D’ye dance?”
“I—” Laila stammered. Of course, growing up in her father’s castle, she had been taught to dance, but the common life she was supposed to have come from would have been entirely different.
“So shy,” Lady McGowan remarked. “Ye really must outgrow that, lass.”
“Of course, Milady,” Laila said.
“Here,” Lady McGowan said, reaching out her hand. She took hold of Laila’s palm and placed a silver piece in it. “Buy yerself something ye like.”
“Are you sure?” Laila asked, taken aback by the generosity. She had never seen anyone of noble descent offer up coin in such a manner.
“Of course, deary,” Lady McGowan said dismissively. “Why d’ye think I gave it tae ye?”
